Trust My Rage
by Obnoxious Unicorn
Summary: When the rage has gone, what else is there left to trust? There was nothing for the Second Prince of Asgard, and he was feeling so very, very tired. He wanted it to end. He wanted it all to end. Post-TDW and onwards. Avengers will appear in later chapters, as well as various Norse Mythology references. One-shot, but could turn into a story if well-received.
1. Lokasenna

It had been two weeks since he had 'died'. Two weeks since Loki Laufeyson was no more, two weeks since 'Odin' had agreed to let Thor return to Midgard. Two weeks since the real Odin had fallen into the Odinsleep, the last word that passed his lips being 'Loki'.

The God of Mischief was sat beside his foster father's bedside, staring through the shimmering veil of magic at the old, worn face of the king. The real king.

_(Who am I? Why am I doing this?)_

He remembered the last time he was so close to his father, in the weapons vault, talking towards the Allfather with a black fury that threatened to break and tear and shatter Loki until there was nothing left. And that was what had happened. Two days later, on the Rainbow Bridge, hanging on for his life, when a simple 'No' ended everything. Loki may have survived falling through the void, but his sanity still drifted about somewhere between the branches of Yggdrasil.

_(A monster, that is what I am, and I am doing what monsters to. Taking and taking and taking until there is nothing left.)_

Then he remembered the pain- the excruciating, mind-numbing pain- that had followed after he crashed on that barren moon. For one, long, agonising year Loki was in the hands of the Chitauri- _(Thanos. He promised me pain, and he keeps his promises. Thanos will come for me.)_- and his sanity slipped even further from his grasp. All he knew was anger, pain, a thirst for vengeance and the promise of power that the Tesseract gave him.

Then on Midgard, fighting his brother- _(He is not my brother!)_- and the strange mortals that were not as weak as he had originally thought. He wondered briefly how many he had slaughtered that day, and even though he knew that his mind had not been his own, Loki could not suppress the guilt that gripped his heart, weighing it down as though Mjolnir was on his chest.

_(If they knew the truth, would they still condemn me? Would trust me?)_

The death of his mother, the way he had screamed and clawed and punched and kicked at the walls of his infernal cell until he was exhausted. The only one of his family- _(Not my family. Never my family.)_- that he still loved- _(Love? Love is a lie. All it brings is pain, pain, and more pain. I am tired of pain._)- and he could not save her. All he could do was sit in his cell and scream; scream for everything that once was, for everything he lost, for being unable to save his mother- _(She was never my mother.)_- and for not even being able to see her off to Valhalla.

Escaping Asgard with Thor and the mortal woman, Jane-

_(Are you mad?)_

_(Probably.)_

-and yelling out his fury with the Thunder God. Loki had glared into his once-brother's blue eyes- _(Blue eyes, blonde hair, tanned skin; just like every other Asgardian. How was I so blind?)_- with hate and malice, wishing for Thor to know everything, for him to see the truth but not wanting to tell him. Thor wouldn't have believed him anyway.

_(I wish I could trust you.)_

Sitting on the throne of Asgard for the first time in two years- _(Only two years? It feels like a lifetime ago.)_- in the guise of Odin Allfather, the very man he sat beside now, and lying to Thor. It was so easy to him, but it still hurt. He hated it, but it still hurt him to lie to Thor.

_(Trust my rage.)_

Loki stood, never taking his eyes of the Allfather. _(It would be so easy to kill you, to slit your throat right here and now. You would be powerless against me, and I could have everything I want.)_

_(I never wanted the throne! I only ever wanted to be your equal!)_

He frowned at the memory. Did he want the throne?

_(So you would take the world I love as recompense for your imagined slights?)_

And that was where Thor was both right and wrong. He had wanted to rule Midgard then, while under the influence of the Tesseract, but not beforehand. Not now, either. Loki didn't want that. _(So what is it I want?)_ Peace, he realised. All Loki wanted was to live out the remainder of his days however short they may be- in peace. He no longer wanted to kill- the rage he had felt was long gone, leaving him hollow and exhausted- or destroy things. He simply wanted rest.

_(I've grown soft.)_ But he no longer cared. He had nothing left to care about.

Leaning over the old king, Loki said softly, "You should have left me in that temple to die, as was my birthright. Instead you raised a monster to be an even worse creature. An abomination. Now you must live with the knowledge that I am your creation. Do not try to send a search party, because I will be long gone by then. Farewell, Odin Allfather. Enjoy the rest of your lonely days."

He ignored the stab of guilt he felt as he spoke his last words and spun on his heel. As he reached the doors, he did not open them, but instead opened a portal. Without looking back, Loki stepped through into a random realm.

_(Trust my rage.)_

_(What is there to trust when the rage has gone?)_

* * *

**A/N: So, that was just a little one shot. Tell me in a review if you'd like it to turn into a full story, because I've got loads of ideas. Updates would be slow, of course, because I already have another story in progress, but I've been dying to write a Thor/Avengers story since the films came out. Me being me, this story would probably turn out to have a lot of angst and possibly some torture in it, so just tell me if you'd like to see where it could go.**


	2. Blue

**A/N: So , yeah, I'm going to try and make this a full length story while getting through my writer's block for my other story. Thank you for the positive feedback from the first chapter- it's really appreciated and makes my day!**

* * *

As soon as his feet touched solid ground, Loki examined his surroundings. He stood in the middle of a forest of tall, pale-barked trees with silver leaves. They were tall, stretching up for hundreds of feet, and had straight, thick trunks. The forest floor was a carpet of snowdrops and fallen silver leaves that crunched beneath Loki's feet.

Alfheim, home of the Light Elves.

Closing his eyes, the God of Mischief listened intently for the sound Alfheim was so famous for. And then he heard it; the soft, melodious singing of the Elves. It echoed through the forest, coming from all directions. It brought a small smile to his face.

The Elves responsible for the singing would most likely be miles and miles away, but the magic in the trees would carry their voices through the entire forest. And that was why Loki had journeyed to Alfheim.

Out of all the Nine Realms, Alfheim was the one place that Loki ever felt comfortable.

_(-You give up this poisonous dream! You come home…)_

_(I don't have it.)_

The smile fell from his lips, his brow pulled into a frown. Home. That was something he had not felt like he'd had in a long, long time. Even before he knew of his heritage.

Pursing his lips, Loki began walking at a leisurely pace through the forest, the leaves silent even as he trod over them. The soft melody of the Elves calmed him slightly, but his tumultuous thoughts were not completely abated. They continued to torment him, even as he walked.

_(You are our son, Loki, and we your family.)_

The one who had spoken those words to him was gone. Nothing more than a memory.

_(Screaming. Screaming until his throat was raw, while those that had once called themselves his family attended the funeral of the only person Loki had had left.)_

He stopped walking, squeezing his eyes shut at the tightness in his chest. His mind raged on, unforgiving. _(Sanity. Where is my sanity?)_

_(Do you honestly think you can find it in this forest?)_

_(I am not searching for my sanity. I am searching for peace. Inner peace.)_

Yet he knew it was an impossible dream. For how can one have inner peace when their very minds are against them?

* * *

He finally stopped in a meadow. There was a small lake at the far end, with rocks forming a small island in the middle. Trees surrounded the entire place; indeed, it seemed as though Alfheim was a never ending forest. The meadow consisted of tall grass that came up to Loki's knees and wild flowers of all kinds. He had been walking for hours, and this seemed as good a place as any to rest. The sun was already setting, and the nearest Elven city was probably dozens of miles away.

Walking to the edge of the lake, Loki sat, bringing his knees up and resting his arms on them. The sun had long since disappeared behind the tall trees, leaving the silver woodland in a cool blue- _(Blue. The colour will forever haunt me.)-_ light under the darkening sky.

Heaving a sigh, he lay back, folding his hands on his stomach and stretching out his long legs. He watched as the stars- _(Falling through the Void, they were the only thing that brought him peace. In the deafening silence, in the blinding darkness, the stars replaced his sanity.)_- appeared in the darkening blue sky. The largest of Alfheim's moons- and there were three, if he remembered correctly- loomed directly over him, framed by the multicoloured stars and far-off nebulas. He stared at the stars for hours, never tiring of the distant singing of the Elves and the beauty around him.

There, in the glory of Alfheim, Loki finally fell asleep.

* * *

"Why, Loki?" The soft voice asked, interrupting his rest.

The world around him brightened harshly, and he squinted in the stark white light of his prison cell. Finally, his eyes focused and he looked at the source of the voice.

And his heart twisted almost painfully in his chest as he stared in disbelief at the form of his mother, exactly as he had last seen her.

"Mother?" He asked, rising from the bed.

"Why did you not come?" She asked, and silent tears ran from her eyes.

Loki came to a stop when he saw the first tear roll down her cheek, standing about four feet away.

"You could have stopped them, Loki. You could have stopped the Dark Elves. I paid for it with my life. Who next shall pay for your wrongdoings?"

"I-"

"You told them to take the left staircase, did you not?"

Loki's heart dropped at her words, and he realised with a sickening jolt that she was right. He had informed Kurse to take the left staircase, away from the battle. With the correct turns… it would have led him straight to his mother.

"Mother, please-"

"Do not call me that. You yourself disowned me, Loki Laufeyson."

She turned, and the hem of her dress and the end of her hair shimmered with magic. She would disappear, once more leaving him to his guilt. He couldn't live with the guilt.

"No! Don't go! Please! Mother, please- I am sorry- I-"

"Save me your lies, Loki. All I ever did was love you, and you threw it back in my face. I wanted us to be a happy family again, but you just couldn't let it go, could you?"

"Please, look at me," he begged.

She turned, much to his relief, but this feeling was short lived as he saw the deep red stain over her heart, contrasting sharply with the soft colour of her dress and the now-pale pallor of her skin. The stain grew, and Loki tried to move towards her, but his feet were rooted in place.

"Why?" She choked out.

Loki's breathing quickened, and he was aware of a hot liquid on his hands, and he was gripping something solid in his left. Swallowing, he looked down, and he exhaled sharply at the all too familiar red that coated his skin, and the very same dagger he had used to slay the Dark Elves.

"What- No, I-" but he couldn't continue. The blood was spreading over his arms, seeping into the tattered green fabric of his tunic and coating his skin. It spread upwards towards his shoulders, up his neck and into his hair. Finally I went to his face, and he was soon blinded by the red. The blood seeped into his mouth, filling it with the taste of copper, and down his throat. Choking him.

The last thing he heard was not the voice of his mother, but of Odin.

"Your birthright was to die."

* * *

Loki shot up, gasping desperately for air and clawing at his throat. His eyes were open wide, the green having a wild, manic glint to it. He took in deep gulps, curling onto his side while holding his neck.

Minutes later, his breathing slowed and his heartbeat slowed. Once he was sure he could think clearly, Loki reached up to touch the wetness on his cheeks. _(Crying, how pathetic. And over something as silly as a dream.)_

_(But it was not just a simple dream.)_

He sat up and practically crawled over to the lake, intending to wash his face in the water, when something caught his eye. Looking up, Loki watched in fascination as the mild breeze created a ripple over the surface of the lake. The glowing lake. The water was glowing an iridescent blue-_ (Always blue. Why is it always blue?)_- that lit the meadow with a soft light. It was beauty as Loki had never seen it.

He recalled reading that Midgard had water like this, that it was a type of algae that caused the water to do this when disturbed. This, however, was not the mortal realm, and Loki knew this to be magic. Like everything else in Alfheim, there was magic in the water.

_(Magic. The thing I was shunned for and the thing I excelled in above all else. Perhaps his is where I should stay?)_

He looked around the meadow; at the calmly fluttering grass, at the rippling water, a the rocks that reflected the water's glow, at the stars and moons in the sky, a the softly glowing trees… And the Elves, he realised, were still singing.

_(Yes. This is where I will live out the remainder of my days.)_


	3. Yearning

**A/N: Okay, so the story will pick up soon, I promise. I just need to lay the plot out before diving straight into the action.**

* * *

He did not sleep again that night. No, instead he watched the dark outlines of fish swimming in the luminous water and debated whether or not to join them. However, the sun then began to rise and the water dimmed down until it looked just like any other lake. Another time then.

He stood and stretched his back, cracking his neck, and looked around the meadow. It was a fairly decent size, out of the way of any settlements, and had a decent supply of edible plants around. Nodding to himself, Loki closed his eyes and focused.

If he was going to stay there, he needed a place to live.

_(The scepter, though he hated it, supplied him with almost unlimited power in his magic reserves. That was one side affect Thanos had not anticipated, and Loki was punished severely for it. In the end, it made no difference. Loki was trapped in the dark realm of the Chitauri.)_

Clenching his jaw, he pushed the memory goths back of his mind. He needed to concentrate now. He took in a deep breath and raised his hands in front of him, allowing the magic to run through his palms and outwards into the space before him.

_(When was the last time you used so much magic without being ridiculed for it?)_

This single thought broke his concentration, and he had to release the spell. Opening his eyes, he found that the result was not at all bad.

Now, in front of him stood a house. It was wooden and simple, with steps leading up to the lantern-lit porch. It sat a few yards away from the lake, with a balcony above the porch that would allow him to look out onto the water. Satisfied, Loki made his way inside his new home-_ (Not home. That is a luxury I will never have.)_- and surveyed the interior.

It was small- much smaller than anything he was used to as a prince- but it had a certain quality to it that made up for the lack of space. it was not as if he needed much room, anyway.

There was a small living area with a fireplace and armchairs, as well as a low table and a large book case. At the other end was a small kitchen area, fitted with the contraptions of running water that he had seen on Midgard. Walking upstairs, there was a bathroom, a bedroom and a study.

The bathroom was mostly black marble, with a large bath, a sink with a mirror and a toilet. The study was packed with empty bookcases waiting to be filled, with a large desk and comfortable chair in front of a window that overlooked the lake. The bedroom had a large, four poster bed with deep green sheets and pillows, a wardrobe, another fireplace and a comfortable armchair.

Yes, this would do quite nicely.

* * *

It had been three months of living in Alfheim when he heard it; a change in the Elves' song. Loki knew that they rarely changed their song unless something of importance was happening; it was a way of spreading the word to all in the Realm of what was going on. And this, he realised with a sickening feeling in his gut, was something of the upmost importance.

Speaking the language of the Alltongue, Loki could understand every language there was. Despite that, he had learnt as many languages as he could in his youth, including that of the Elves. So he could understand every word they sang.

They sung of Thor Odinson, Lady Sif and the Warriors Three, and how they had been journeying across the Realms recently to ensure that all was well after the Convergence. And they had just arrived in Alfheim.

Loki was in his study, sitting in the comfortable desk chair while reading one of many books that he had gathered in his time there, and he stopped reading at the change in tempo of the song. It had become a relaxing soundtrack to his time in Alfheim, and he would not miss such a significant change even if he had placed a silencing charm on his house.

His breathing quickened and his mind raced- _(Thor's here- Thor can't be here- I sent him to Midgard- He's with Jane- He isn't- No- It cannot be real- It's not real- He isn't here- Thor- Thor- Thor-)_- to the point where his vision spun. He forced himself to be calm, to shut the book gently and to rise from his seat at an even speed, to walk slowly into his bathroom. Then he allowed himself to let go.

First, he felt anger- _(Rage. Pure, murderous rage. Kill- Kill- Kill the Jotuns and the mortals and the Aesir and everyone- Kill everyone- They must pay- Kill them all-)_- and he let out a wordless shout, sending his fist flying at the mirror above the sink. It shattered with a satisfying sound, the shards tinkling down into the sink. His knuckles bore minor scratches, but they would heal soon enough. He stared into his on eyes through the cracked remains of the mirror, his emerald eyes burning.

_(Why is he here? Why can he not leave me be and let me forget?)_

Then, he felt panic rising up in his chest, gripping his heart like a vice. _(He knows- Odin must have woken and told him. Thor knows and he is searching for me and he will drag me back to Asgard and into that cell where Mother- Mother and all her memories. I cannot go back. I _will_ not go back.) _His chest heaved with uneven breaths as he stumbled backwards, and he came to lean against the cold marble surface of the bathroom wall. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best to block out the world and everything in it.

Finally, after what Loki thought to be at least an hour, he opened his eyes and felt acceptance and rationality. Thor was too oblivious to see past Loki's illusions- _(That day- That accursed day in the cell when he had all but destroyed its contents and Thor had been able to see through his illusion. But Loki had been hurting and distracted- that was why he could tell, right?_)- and his guise of the Allfather had been one of his greatest ever. There was no way Thor was there for him.

And under all those conflicting emotions, Loki tried to suppress the burning desire to see his brother. _(Not my brother.) _Why he would even want to see Thor after fearing- _(Not fear. Loki knew fear more than any other living being. He was not afraid...)_- that he would be taken back to Asgard? He honestly did not know, he only knew that he wanted to see him.

Looking at the shards of glass on the floor, Loki frowned. He had thought the rage was gone. He had been doing so well at finding peace- _(Lies. He was not happy, nor was he at peace. He yearned for more- He yearned for- for _more_.)_- and then simply the mentioning of Thor in the Elves' song had _evoked_ this in him.

With a heavy sigh, Loki turned and made his way out of the door, waving his hand at the damage. Behind him, the mirror fixed itself together and once more hung whole on the wall.

He went to his bedroom and looked at himself in the full length mirror, pursing his lips. He could not very well get anywhere near Thor while looking like, well, like Loki. With a shimmer of green, his appearance changed almost completely. He stood a couple of inches shorter (Elves were not the tallest of beings) and his main features had altered. His sharp features had softened, his green eyes slanted slightly, his ears pointed and his hair longer and straightened, falling just below his shoulder blades and braided in a distinctly elvish fashion. His clothing had changed slightly; while he had been wearing leather trousers, an emerald green tunic and riding boots, he now wore black breeches, a (still green) tunic with golden stitching, and similar boots.

With a sigh, he cursed himself for doing this. Loki opened a portal and walked through, close to where the Elves were celebrating Thor's visit.

_(I'm not your brother- I never was.)_

_(Do I even believe my own lies anymore?)_


	4. Not Quite

He did not know why, but as soon as Loki heard the musical laugher of the elves and the flickering of firelight through the trees, his stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch.

_(I tried so hard to forget you; why will you not let me? Why will you not let me let go-)_

_(Hanging from Gungnir with an ever-loosening grip, needing something- anything- to reassure him that he was still wanted-)_

_(No, Loki.)_

Gritting his teeth, Loki forced himself forward, cursing himself a thousand fold for being so stupidly soft- _(Slipping a dagger between Thor's armor plates. Sentiment.)_- and wanting to see Thor for himself. He put on his most charming smile as he came into a large clearing. A large fire was in the middle, and many long, wooden tables and benches were scattered around the place. There was dancing, singing, laughing- Loki felt out of place instantly. He had never been one for celebrations, even in his younger days.

And there, at the far end of the clearing, was a long table filled with the Lords and Ladies of Alfheim. With them sat Lady Sif, the Warriors Three and Thor.

Unlike Loki had expected, Thor was not laughing and drinking with his friends, but rather smiling very faintly and talking quietly with King Frey.

Loki was unaware of the elf maiden slide up to his side, so busy as he was staring at his brother- _(Not my brother...)_.

"_You_ are supposed to be dead," the elf said in a musical voice. A voice that Loki would recognise anywhere.

He jolted out of his thoughts and turned to the she-elf. And there she stood- pure white hair and skin just as pale, rosy lips, eyes a deep, glittering blue- looking just as he remembered her. Sigyn.

_(He remembered declaring his love for her- She did the same for him. They were happy- it did not last. Did he love her still? No, he did not feel love. Did he trust her with his life? Yes. Always and forever.)_

"Sigyn," he said, smiling.

"Not a bad disguise, but not your best. It is almost as though you _want_ him to recognise you," she said, returning his smile.

Their marriage had collapsed- _(His sons. His beautiful, perfect sons. One ripped apart, the other driven mad by the knowledge of what he had done to the point where he jumped off the Rainbow Bridge. And didn't _that_ sound familiar?)_- and they had drifted apart, but they bore no animosity towards each other. On Loki's visits to Alfheim, he would always visit Sigyn. They could almost be called friends were it not for the fact that Loki did not _have_ friends.

"How have you been?" Loki asked, very pointedly ignoring her previous statement.

She knew this, of course, but Loki was grateful when she did not comment further. "Better than you, apparently. Why must you insist on getting yourself hurt wherever you go?"

"I don't purposefully get myself stabbed through the heart, you know," Loki sighed.

"No, but something happens to you nearly every time you go off on one of your adventures with Thor," she huffed, frowning.

"Well, it won't be happening again any time soon. Has Odin sent a search party for me?" He asked, frowning as he remembered revealing himself to the king in his chambers. He may have been in the Odinsleep, but Loki did not doubt that he was aware of his presence there.

"There... have been scouts sent around the Realms. Frey tells me that Thor believes you are alive and well, and that is the only reason he has left Midgard," she said solemnly.

Loki sighed through his nose, pursing his lips. Lowly, he said, "Does he have any idea?"

"Not that I know of. But he has been quiet as of late. These past few years have taken their toll on him- on both of you," she replied, looking at him with a concerned expression.

Loki did not reply, merely turning to stare at the table where the God of Thunder sat. Frey was no longer speaking with him, his attention now focused on his wife, and so Thor was left to drink his ale quietly, a pensive- _(Thor? Pensive? Has Ragnarok come early?)_- expression on his face.

He was quiet for a while, strangely grateful for Sigyn's presence by his side. Loki merely continued to stare at his once-brother.

And somewhere along the lines, without Loki even noticing, Thor stared right back.

* * *

Thor froze as he met the dark eyes of a strange elf at the edge of the clearing. He was standing beside Sigyn, his brother's- _(Holding the cold body in his arms, praying that this was just another trick and that his baby brother would open his eyes and call him a fool for falling for his deception, then slip a blade between his ribs. The blade would be less painful.)_- ex-wife, and was staring right at Thor. The First Prince of Asgard- _(Only prince.)_- had the strange feeling he knew the elf, and the way Sigyn was so familiar around him made Thor hope… No. His brother looked nothing like this elf.

But the familiar intensity of his gaze… Loki was the only person we able to unnerve Thor with a single, hard stare- though he had never admitted it- and this person was managing to do just that.

When Fandral, by far Loki's closest friend out of all the famed Warriors of Asgard, had knocked on Jane Foster's door, asking for Thor, the God of Thunder hardly knew what to think. Then when he had told him that he Allfather believed Loki to be alive and somewhere in the Nine Realms… Thor could _still_ scarcely believe it.

And so he had searched. Alfheim was the last Realm to search, and he refused to cling to any hope that Loki was alive and well. But… that elf was still staring at him.

Finishing his ale, Thor stood from his seat, nodding at Sif with a smile as she noticed him go. He walked over to Sigyn and the elf, not even noticing the way the stranger blinked and tensed as he approached.

* * *

Loki cursed himself for his stupidity. And _how_ could he have been so _stupid_? Now Thor was on his way over and Loki had nowhere to go without making the oaf suspect something.

"Well done, Loki, you just invited him over here," Sigyn said dryly.

Loki glared at her briefly before turning his back to the approaching prince. His ex-wife smiled as Thor neared, and Loki scolded himself inwardly for the burst of jealousy he still felt at seeing her smile so sweetly, so genuinely, at Thor.

"Thor! I've been meaning to speak with you," Sigyn said.

The she-elf and the Thunder God embraced, Thor's huge frame almost swallowing Sigyn's tiny one.

"Sigyn, it has been far too long," Thor said, smiling down at the elf. He then turned to Loki, who forced himself not to tense up under the familiar blue stare.

_(Blue. Always, always blue.)_

He smiled slightly and bowed, keeping up the charade of a stranger. Straightening again, he said, "Prince Thor Odinson, it is an honour."

Thor bowed his head and smiled. "And who might you be?"

"Anguem. An old friend of Lady Sigyn's," he said smoothly, the lie rolling off his tongue effortlessly- _(But why does it hurt to lie to him?)_.

"A pleasure, Anguem," Thor smiled broadly, but Loki could tell that it was merely for the sake of politeness. Loki wondered why Thor's heart wasn't in the smile like it usually was.

"Have you found anything?" Sigyn said lowly, frowning.

Loki smirked inwardly. Sigyn was almost as convincing a liar as he was.

Thor sighed and shook his head. "No. I searched Svartalfheim for days and found no body. My brother is alive still. Why he has done this to father and I a second time, I do not know."

Loki felt a flare of anger at Thor's words. He wanted to drop his disguise, claw at Thor's face like a vicious creature, scream at him _Why? You want to know why? _and tell him everything. But he did not. He remained stoic and solemn.

"We cannot lose hope, Thor, that your brother will return to us," Sigyn said softly, and Loki felt his throat tighten.

_(We cannot lose hope that your father will return to us- and your brother.)_

_(What hope is there for Thor?)_

_(There is always hope.)_

Gone. A distant memory. An ever present thorn in Loki's side. Hope was something he refused to cling to, for it had never helped him before.

"I will never lose that hope, Sigyn. I can only blame myself for the things that have happened, and hope that one day he can find it in his heart to forgive me," Thor said, his voice heavy with regret.

Loki's eyes narrowed slightly, unnoticeable to those around hime, and he stared hard at Thor, searching for any lie in him. But he found none. How? How could Thor have fought Loki time and time again, have almost been killed by him several times, and still wish for Loki to forgive him?

_(How can this oaf still think of me as his brother? How can he stand there, looking so honest and open, and be able to tell such a convincing lie? For this cannot be true. He cannot still think of me as... as family. Frigga and Odin are- were- his family. His brother is dead, the only thing left a hollow shell.)_

And yet, as Loki thought over it- _(The way Thor had yelled after him when he let go of Gungnir- The way he had pleaded with Loki with eyes oh, so honest and blue to come home- The way he had cradled Loki's body close to him, as if fearing he would disappear if he loosened his grip-)_- he came to realise that perhaps Thor was not lying. For all his years, hardened by battle, bloodshed and betrayal, Thor was still childishly honest.

Somewhere, deep inside Loki, some of the darkness that had threatened to consume him lifted slightly.

"I am sure he will, one day, Prince Thor," Loki said, smiling slightly.

Thor seemed to have forgotten he had been there, as he blinked and processed Loki's words. Then, a small, grateful smile graced the Thunder God's lips. For the first time in a long time, Loki was at ease around Thor- _(Around his brother.)_.

_(Not quite a reconciliation, but... for now, it will do.)_

* * *

**A/N: 'Anguem' means 'snake' in latin. I thought it would be fitting.**


	5. Hurricane of Memories

Thor lay awake in his large bed. He was staying in Frey's palace, high in the trees of the silver forests of Alfheim. It was one of many restless nights that had followed the 'death' of his brother, where Thor would be plagued for hours on end with a hurricane of thoughts and memories of Loki.

They never left him alone, and Thor figured this was his punishment for being a poor brother over the millennia, for not noticing how Loki had been isolating himself from society, how his mind had become warped and twisted, how he had fallen into madness...

_Thor thumped on Loki's door, a frown on his face. His brother had not left his chambers for over two months, and their parents were beginning to worry. They were not unaccustomed to Loki shutting himself away, but this was the first time it had gone on for so long. Usually, it was for a week or two while Loki figured out a new spell or simply wished for peace and quiet, but Thor was beginning to think there was something else. Never had it been this long without him seeing his brother._

_"Loki? Loki, open the door!" He boomed, his voice echoing through the hallway._

_No answer._

_"Loki, if you do not open this door I will knock it down!" He growled threateningly, his worry morphing into anger. _

_After a few moments waiting, Thor stepped back and brandished Mjolnir, preparing to completely destroy the door, when there was a soft click. Lowering his hammer, Thor pushed the door open and entered the room._

_He had to blink a few times while his eyes adjusted to the near total darkness of the room, but he eventually found Loki sitting on the windowsill, his back leaning against the window frame and his legs bent, staring out of the open archway. Thor's heart leapt into his throat when he saw just how dangerously close to the edge Loki was._

_"Loki..." He began._

_He received no response from his brother._

_"Loki," He repeated, louder and more forceful._

_Loki blinked, seeming to snap out of a daze, and turned his head to Thor. The moonlight made his pale skin glow a ghostly shade of white, and Thor noticed with a frown the dark circles beneath his brother's eyes, as well as his too-thin frame. Loki clearly had not eaten any of the food that had been sent to his chambers._

_"Thor," Loki greeted, nodding once. His face remained impassive._

_"Loki... come away from the edge," Thor instructed slowly._

_Loki frowned and looked at the window. "Why?"_

_"You may fall-"_

_Loki scoffed. "I have been doing this for years. I highly doubt the fall would kill me, anyway."_

_Thor tried not to pay attention to the bitter tone of his voice. _

_"Why are you here?" Loki sighed resignedly, leaning his head back._

_"Mother and Father wish for you to join us for."_

_"I am not hungry."_

_"You are naught but skin and bone!"_

_Loki frowned. "I will survive."_

_This time it was Thor who scoffed. "Barely. We have not seen you in two months, brother."_

_"As I have not seen you in two months. If I can manage, so can you. Now, if you would be so kind as to shut the door on your way out, I would be most grateful," he smiled briefly, the expression dropping from his face almost immediately as he turned to look back out of the window._

_Thor's anger flared again. "I am not leaving this room without you."_

_"Then you will be here for a very long time, Thor, and I doubt you can go so long without running off to battle."_

_"Loki, we are worried about you-"_

_"I am fine!" Loki hissed, his green eyes glinting in the moonlight ominously as they darted back to Thor._

_"Your silver tongue fails you, for I can plainly see that you are not fine. When was the last time you ate? When was the last time you slept?"_

_"Why does it concern you?"_

_"Because you are my brother and you look as though you are at the very gates of Niflheim itself!"_

_Loki stiffened then, and Thor realised his mistake after a moment. Never did Loki take well to hearing derogatory referances of Niflheim or Helheim, not after Hela... Not after Hela was banished there as a child. It had been many centuries since it had happened, but... Thor knew it to be one of Loki's deepest, darkest pains._

_"Loki-"_

_"Leave. I wish not for the company of another tonight."_

_And Thor did, his head hung in shame, yet he never once apologised._

Thor grimaced at the memory, rolling onto his side. How could he have not apologised for such careless words? Had he truly been so blind? So arrogant? So... so... apathetic? He frowned at the word. Apathetic. Loki was always known for his cold demeanor, for his indifference to many things. Thor... he realised, now, that while he truly did love his brother, he rarely showed it. He rarely stood up for Loki against the bullies, he rarely defending him when he was arguing with the Allfather for something that was not his fault-

_"Do not lie to me, Loki!" Odin roared, his grip tightening on Gungnir. "What part did you play in Baldr's death?"_

_Thor stood to his brother's side, an accusatory frown on his face as he stared at Loki. The God of Mischief's eyes were wide and frightful as he took a step back, turning his terrified, tearful gaze to their mother, who stood by the King's side with tears running down her cheeks._

_"Odin, please, don't-"_

_"Silence! Loki Odinson, you have betrayed your family with your poisonous words and actions. I, Odin Allfather, hereby cast you out of Asgard until you have learnt the heinousness of your actions!" With a blast of magic, Odin sent Loki through the Bifrost._

_Loki never got the chance to defend himself, and no one but Frigga even tried to do it for him._

_They left the Bifrost, sullen and heartbroken, but not once did any of them consider Odin's punishment to be unjust._

Several years afterwards, Heimdall reported to have seen Loki on a cliff in Vanaheim, bound to a rock while a snake dripped burning, toxic venom on his skin. Odin had ordered Loki to be brought home, and Thor insisted he be the one to retrieve him- _(He never once believed Loki to be responsible for their brother's death. But he did not appose his father's opinion either.)_- from Vanaheim.

He had found his little brother, scarred, bleeding, screaming and half mad precisely where his father had told him to search. It had taken months of screams and curses and terrible, terrible pain before Loki had regained any sense of proper consciousness. Even more months before he spoke to anyone. He had remained in his chambers for well over three decades then, barely speaking, barely eating, barely sleeping, barely _living_.

Loki had finally emerged from his chambers for the first time in thirty-two years, but Thor's brother was all but gone. The man that he fetched from the cliff was a mere stranger with the ghostly appearance of Thor's brother.

After another dozen years, Loki began speaking with their mother. After another century, Loki began speaking with Thor. After three centuries, Loki finally came to speak with their father.

Banishing the memory from his mind, Thor squeezed his eyes shut and ran his hands through his hair. _(Why did I not stop him? Why did I let Loki be punished for something I knew not to be his fault?)_

And it wasn't the first time, either.

_A ten year old Sif ran to the twelve year old Thor, tears streaming down her face as she gripped her hair. Her unnaturally black hair. Thor frowned at the colour; Sif's hair had been golden blonde._

_"T-Thor!" She cried, skidding to a halt in front of him so abruptly that she slammed into his chest. _

_Thor steadied her and held her at arms length. "Sif, what hapened?"_

_"S-Someone cut off my hair in the night! And now it's black! I don't know what happened, but my hair is black and it will not wash out like any normal dye!" She sobbed._

_Just as she said that, an eleven year old Loki came into the room, frowning when he saw the upset girl and his brother. _

_"Sif? Are you well?" He asked, coming to stand by her._

_The young goddess continued to cry in Thor's arms, and several other children of the palace came to see what the fuss was about. Whispers arose, many of them commenting on Sif's hair... but the majority of them focusing on Loki._

_"It was him, I bet."_

_"He's always messing about with magic."_

_"I heard he is being taught by a Frost Giant how to use Dark Magic."_

_"He probably did it so he wasn't the only one in the Realm with black hair."_

_Sif pulled away from Thor and gaped at Loki. Thor, too, stared at his little brother._

_"You..." Sif breathed, teary eyes wide._

_"Loki, you didn't..." Thor trailed off, scarcely able to believe what he was hearing._

_"What? No, it wasn't me, I swear!" Loki protested, green eyes bulging._

_"You liar!" Sif sobbed, bursting into tears again._

_It angered Thor to see his friend in such a state. "Look what you have done!" He shouted accusingly._

_"I-I didn't-"_

_"You fix this now, Loki!" Thor demanded._

_"But-"_

_"Do it, or I swear I will break every bone in your body!" He thundered, rage consuming him. How dare Loki do something so atrocious?_

_"I don't know how to fix it!" Loki yelled, tears forming in his own eyes._

_"I don't care! Find someone who can fix it then!" Sif screamed, furious with the Second Prince._

And Loki had. He had gone to the dwarves, requesting that they make new hair for Sif. They had agreed, but for a price. If two of their dwarves could make something finer than the golden hair, then Loki's head would be their payment. If the hair was the more beautiful craft, then Loki could take it and leave freely. The dwarves would not take any other offer, and so Loki had no choice but to agree.

The two dwarves won.

Loki, with his quick mind, had claimed that the dwarves could only have his head, but not his neck. Therefore, they had no choice but to let him keep his head. Of course, this had angered them greatly, and they had made sure Loki was silenced for his silver tongue after that.

Heimdall had found him on the borders of Asgard, leather thread pulled taut through his lips to the point where he could not move his face without moaning in agony.

He had been taken straight to the healing rooms, where they had given him pain relieving medicines... and that had been both the Healers' greatest mercy and their mistake. As soon as they had come towards Loki with the scissors to cut the thread, Loki had panicked and- in his delirious state of blood loss- tried screaming for them to get away. The action had caused the leather to rip completely through Loki's lips like the skin was naught but silk.

And Thor had watched on in horror as his little brother bled himself half to death.

_"Loki-"_

_"You stay away from him, Thor Odinson- you have done enough this day!" His mother snapped, her golden dress covered in blood as she cradled Loki's (now unconscious) body to her._

_"Mother, I-"_

_"You what? Sent him off to the dwarves on his own? He is eleven, Thor! He knows nothing of their brutal ways!" She exclaimed._

_Thor bowed his head, ashamed._

_"And for what? Sif's hair? Did you blame him for that as easily as the others did? I will have you know that the culprit has been caught- and it was not your brother!" _

_Thor felt guilt claw at his heart. "I am sorry..."_

_"No, it is not I you need apologise to. Now, leave. Go to your father."_

_And Thor did._

While he healed, Loki had not uttered a word to anyone. For years and years afterwards, he never once said anything to anyone. Only when he was a grown, battle-hardened warrior, did Loki finally begin to speak again. But even then he was quiet. Oh, he still played his tricks and kept his mischievous ways, but Loki was not the cheerful child Thor remembered he had been. He had gone to the dwarves a child, and returned a man. Old before his time.

Thor placed his palms over his bleary eyes, remembering how, even then, when he was still an arrogant, bloodthirsty, naive child, he had never regretted anything more than sending Loki off to the dwarves alone.

_(So many regrets... Why did I never think of this while it was happening? Oh, Loki, will you ever forgive me? Will you ever return?)_

But, as he recalled all his wrongdoings and mistreating of Loki in his youth, Thor feared he already knew the answer.

* * *

**A/N: Wow, there's already so many people following my story- I can't believe it. Thank you so much, and I'm glad you like it.**


	6. Scars

Loki collapsed in an armchair by his unlit fire, allowing the illusion over him to drop. He had stayed at the party long after Thor had left, enjoying his time to catch up with Sigyn. But, as always, Loki was not one for celebrations or noisy places, and so he had made his excuses and left. Sigyn had smiled understandingly- as she always did- and bade him a goodnight. Loki swore to himself that he would at least make the effort to visit her sometime soon.

He rubbed his chest, where there was now a long, jagged scar. It had become something of a habit- one that he loathed because it brought back all the painful memories he tried so very hard to suppress.

_(Thor's arms, warm and comforting, wrapped around him, holding him close. He was dying- dying- dying- and cold, so very cold. The warm arms left him. Why was he not dead yet? Why did his heart still beat when a sword had been stabbed through it? Why was he not dead? Why was he not _dead_? Why, why, _why_ was he not _dead_?)_

Loki stood abruptly and stalked up to his room, slamming the door behind him. With a wave of his hand, he was in his night clothes; plain, soft black pants. He stopped- for the second time that day- in front of his full length mirror. Without blinking, he allowed his glamour to drop, revealing who he was under the strong, cold facade. Of course, that blasted spell that concealed his Jotun form was still upon him, but now he could see quite clearly each and every familiar, pale scar that marred his alabaster skin.

Scars on his back from countless lashes of a cursed whip- _("Who will save you now, Jotun scum? Will you not cry for your brother? Will you not let me hear your pretty screams?" Thanos laughed. But Loki did not- could not- scream. He had long since lost his voice.)_- and from snake venom- _(Loki screamed, day after day, for his father, for Thor, for his mother, to save him, to take him away from the horrid place, from the pain- pain- pain that never ended as it dropped onto his skin like fire- burning- searing- incinerating.)_- and from many more beatings.

Scars on his arms from his time as a prisoner of the Chitauri- _(Thanos had stripped him of his Aesir form, leaving him the blue-skinned and red-eyed monster he despised with every fibre of his being. A knife. Whether or not it had been left in his cell on purpose, he did not know- did not care- but he took it and tried- succeeded- in removing the blue. Replacing the cold, hard blue with warm, flowing red.)_- when he had wished for nothing more than to die and return to the Void.

Scars on his face from the Dwarves- _(Why were the healers screaming at him? He was the one who should- was- screaming. He was the one with stitches through his lips. All he had wanted was for them to stay away from him with that blade- he shuddered at the sight of it- and so he had screamed at them to do so. But now they were screaming, and he was numb. Then, with his tongue, he felt the ribbons of flesh that once were his lips, tasted the blood and felt it run hot and thick down his throat, and he fell unconscious.)_- when Thor had threatened him- _(He always did that. Always threatened me. Why me? Why can I do nothing right? I cannot even die right.)_- and forced him to find someone to replace Sif's hair.

Scars on his chest from the venom as it dribbled across his skin, from countless battles over the centuries, from the cruel hands of numerous torturers, from Kurse- _(I couldn't let Thor die. If I ever did anythign right, it was making sure that Thor lived. Thor couldn't die. Asgard, Midgard, the Nine Realms needs him. I can't ever let him die. Thor must live. Thor cannot die. Thor must always live if there is a chance of saving him)._

_(As long as I am alive, there will always be a chance of saving him.)_

* * *

A week later, Loki sat in his armchair. He had spent the last hour trying to read one of his many books, but could hardly concentrate on the words in front of him. His mind was more focused on the fact that Thor and the Warriors were getting closer and closer to his abode by the day. So when there came a knock on the door, Loki wished- and not for the first time- that he could disappear into nothingness.

Once more putting on the guise of Anguem, Loki stood and made his way to the door. His hand hesitated on the handle. Only when there was another knock did he steel himself and open the door. And he could have kissed Sigyn as he saw her standing on his doorstep- alone.

Loki frowned as he took in her attire. She wore a dark green cloak over a tunic and breeches, with brown riding boots on her feet and a dagger in a sheath at her waist. She looked as though she was going hunting, but Elves did not eat meat, nor did they kill for sport.

"Sigyn...?"

"Hmm?" She hummed, then seemed to notice Loki's expression at her clothing. "Oh, I volunteered to join Thor's search party. It's been a while since I spoke to Sif."

Immediately, Loki's eyes darted around the clearing, searching for any sign of his brother.

"Calm yourself, Loki, there are none here but me," Sigyn said.

"And why exactly are you here?"

His ex-wife sighed. "Can I not see an old friend when I like?"

Loki half smiled and stepped aside for Sigyn to come inside. Once he had closed the door, he let his disguise drop. He conjured another armchair for Sigyn, sitting in his own, and lit the fire. As Sigyn sat, she unclipped her cloak. As soon as it left her person, the material disappeared in a wisp of silver magic.

"How far away is Thor?" Loki asked.

"He will not reach this place for another two days... Loki, have you thought about seeing him? Without disguises, I mean."

Loki stiffened and stared into the fire. "And why would I want to do that?"

"Oh, don't give me that!" Sigyn snapped, her fiery temper Loki remembered so well flaring up. "You know that deep down inside, you still love him as you once did! Put aside your bitterness, Loki, and you will feel better for it."

Loki stood from his chair abruptly and towered over the elf. "What do you htink I have been trying to do these past months? Do you honestly think I abandoned _everything_ I strived for simply because I grew bored of it? I _cannot_ let go, Sigyn, no matter how much I try."

She remained seated, staring calmly up at the God of Mischief. "Oh, Loki, do you even believe your own lies anymore?" She said softly.

The words struck too close to home for his liking. Wiping his face clean of emotion, he turned and made his way to his stairs. "See yourself out when you are ready to leave."

He went to his bedroom and sat on his bed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

_(Lie, lie, lie- it's all I'm good for. No one wants a liar, no one can love a liar.)_

_(Mother... Why did you have to go?)_


	7. My Love

**A/N: I am very, very, very sorry for the late update, but we've been given several mock exam papers to do as homework that we have to do (even though the teachers don't even mark them) so I've not had much time to write. It's short, but at least it's something. Next chapter will be better!**

* * *

There was a soft knock on Loki's door, but he didn't move. He kept his head in his hands and gripped his hair tightly, eyes shut tight. The door opened soundlessly, and equally silent footsteps approached. The person sat down on the bed beside him, the mattress hardly dipping from the extra weight.

"Loki, look at me," Sigyn said softly, touching a gentle hand to his wrist and prying the hand away.

Loki remained silent.

_(Your words are poison- No one wants the words of a liar. I will break you, runt, and I shall do so a thousand times over should you fail me.)_

Broken. Loki almost scoffed. It seemed he was already broken, without the extra help from Thanos- _(He has already done enough to me. Any more and I will be nothing)._

"Please look at me, my love," Sigyn pleaded.

My love.

She had not called him that since before Nari and Vali- _(Looking down at the remain's of his son, the once-pale, smooth skin now torn and covered in blood. Nari... How could Loki have let this happen? How had it come to this? Vali- Where was he? Vali- Where are you? Running down the Rainbow Bridge- A dark shape near the very end- Vali. Where is Heimdall? Surely he would intercept Loki's son... Vali- Standing at the edge, looking down into the ocean. Vali! No- no- no- Leaning forward- Falling from the edge- Vali, no!)._ Elves bonded for life- Loki knew this- but he never expected to hear his ex-wife call him such an endearment ever again.

Loki slowly dragged his eyes up to Sigyn's face, but he did not utter a word.

"You cannot go on like this," she breathed, eyes raking over his features. He knew she could see past the glamour- such was the magic of the Elves- and he knew that she had always been able to. So he let her look; a shimmer ran over his body as he dropped the glamour completely.

"I know. But I do not know what to do to stop it," he replied.

"Loki... I know you have been hurt terribly these past few thousand years, but this bitterness will kill you. It will destroy you piece by piece, from the inside out. Selfish it may be, but I cannot lose you again," she said.

"You know I cannot promise that I will always return to you safe and whole; that is a promise I have never been able to make."

She smiled sadly. "I know, but I will not abandon you when there is still hope for you to return."

The words sent a pang of guilt and pain through Loki's chest as he remembered similar words spoken by his mother. He averted his gaze. "I do not remember what it is to hope."

A gentle, warm hand cupped his cheek, bringing his eyes back to Sigyn. She smiled warmly at him. "Then we will have to make you remember."

* * *

"No. Absolutely not."

"Loki, he'll be here in less than a day anyway-"

"And I fully intend to be gone by then."

"Then what? You'll spend the rest of eternity hiding from him? You know Thor will not stop until he has found you."

Loki was silent, staring out at the water as it rippled across the lake in glowing waves. He sat with Sigyn on the bank, among the wildflowers and tall grass. Sigyn had spent the night in his house, and she had used nearly all that time trying to convince him to stay and wait for Thor. Loki continued to refuse, carefully composing his features every time Thor's name was mentioned to hide the flinch of unease he felt.

"And what would I say to him? 'Hello, Thor! Fancy seeing you here! By the way, before you stove my head in with Mjolnir, I didn't fake my death, I just came back to life. Sorry I didn't tell you I was alive- nothing personal or anything'," he said irritably.

"Not quite how I would put it, but each to their own," Sigyn remarked.

Loki glared halfheartedly at her. "If- _If_ I were to stay and wait for him, do you honestly think he would not drag me back to Asgard and into that cell?"

Sigyn sighed. "I cannot say, but I know that he does not wish to betray you. He misses you. Perhaps if you explain everything to him-"

Loki let out a short, harsh laugh. "Oh yes, that would go down well. 'I'm sorry for what happened on Midgard, but I wasn't myself. I'd been brainwashed too, you see, so none of it was really my fault at all'. Yes, I can picture my brains splattered across a wall quite clearly after _that_ conversation, thank you."

"You _know_ he'll let you explain."

"If he doesn't crush my ribcage with one of his ridiculous hugs beforehand."

"You miss him," Sigyn said with some amusement.

"Of course, I can't wait to feel each one of my ribs crack," Loki drawled.

"Please, just see him-"

"I'll think about it."

Sigyn sighed, and the conversation came to a close.

* * *

When Loki woke the next day, Sigyn's warm body beside his permanently cold one, he felt sick to his stomach with dread and anticipation. Thor would be arriving at some point in the day. And Loki still had not decided if he was staying, or if he was leaving. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to block out the world around him.

What he couldn't see, he didn't have to face.

At least, that's what he told himself when he was a child. He knew better than any now that it was the enemies you couldn't see that were the most dangerous.

With a silent sigh, he noiselessly rose from the bed and left the room. It was barely dawn, and the sky was just lightening to a blueish-grey. The forest around the meadow was silent but for the echoing voices of the Elves. They still occasionally sung of Thor.

He went straight into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. Looking into his reflection, he once more allowed his glamour to drop. Rather than examining each individual scar, his eyes fell straight to the one on his chest.

Loki usually did his best to avoid looking at it, but he found his morbid curiosity was strong this day and wanted to see how it had healed. _(Waking up in the cold, barren wasteland of Svartalfheim, knowing that Thor was gone, that once more, he had escaped death. Was Hela playing some kind of cruel game with him? If so, Loki wanted out.)_

His long fingers traced the silvery, jagged line gently._ (He watched as his magic sewed the skin back together, tendrils of green and gold magic weaved in and out of the skin like thread.)_

Could he really stay and wait for Thor? Could Loki, who had done so much evil, really expect the Golden Son of Odin to forgive him for all his misdeeds and wrongdoings? As selfish as it made him- _(Selfishness was one of Loki's many well-known traits. Always wanting, never giving. That was what the Aesir knew him for.)_- Loki really did want that. He didn't expect it, but he wanted it.

He wanted it so very, very much.

And it was in that moment, just as Sigyn entered the bathroom to find Loki staring at his own emaciated form, that the God of Mischief made his decision.

* * *

Loki tapped his fingers against his knee, staring out of the window and into the meadow, searching for any signs of movement- any glimpses of red. Years ago, had he seen how jittery and nervous he was now, he would have told himself to pull himself together and stop being so pathetically anxious. But things had happened since then. Things that made him unable to _'pull himself together'._

"You know, tapping won't make him get here any faster," Sigyn said without looking at him. She was once more dressed in her traveling clothes, and sat in the armchair opposite him with a book in her hands.

Loki didn't answer her, though he stopped tapping. All he could think of was Thor.

Thor was coming.

Thor would find him.

Thor would know everything.

Thor would see him in such a raw state.

Red in the meadow.

Thor was here.


End file.
